


They were never my enemies, you were.

by AToZRainToBe (orphan_account)



Series: The Hermit Town Series [1]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Bdubs and Doc have a past, Doc goes through some stuff and argues with Bdubs, DocM overworks, Gen, Hermitcraft IRL, Made based on minecraft personas, NHO, Overworking, POV DocM77, not always in-character, not cannon compliant, what’s new there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23725453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/AToZRainToBe
Summary: Doc works at area 77. Doc gets moved to the G.O.A.T facility. Doc lives next to someone who betrayed him. Doc gets to work through things he doesn’t want to work through. I get to vent. Doc has a neighbour who’s so full of it, he and his old friend almost ruin Doc’s career.But in the end, Doc can’t help but wonder where it went wrong.Or:Doc and the NHO used to be a specific branch of a government facility. They got along pretty well, until Doc was betrayed. Now, he’s in a small town that he can continue work in- far away, they’d assured him, from anyone in his past. Well, they were lying, and a familiar face showing up at his door brings back everything Doc doesn’t want. Including a neighbour.
Series: The Hermit Town Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708900
Comments: 13
Kudos: 67





	1. You forget, you used me too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: doc gon get stabbed 
> 
> Also arguing

“These demons aren’t your Friends, Doc,” Bdubs is standing in front of him, soaking wet, with Keralis on the street below. Doc’s porch still smells like antiseptic from the day before, and the pouring rain only strengthens the smell. 

“Well, they’ve been more like friends than you ever were,” Doc grumbles, hand tensing around the knob of the door. His eyes are trained on Bdubs’, just like he learnt. 

“They’re using you, and they will kill you,” Bdub’s lips twist to a frown, Keralis still watching from afar. Doc doesn’t miss the way the smaller man shakes a little as he glares at Bdubs. 

“Are you jealous, B?” Doc raises an eyebrow, smirking. He leans forward, lowering his voice enough to keep the moment between them, eyes grim. “Don’t forget that you used me too.”

Bdubs recoils, shock gracing every one of his features as he pulls his hand from where it had been blocking the door from closing. Doc immediately shuts the door, turning away even as Bdubs raps fervently on the wood behind him

He steps forward once. Then again. And again. They may mean well, and he knows they do, but he has work- and that’s all he’s good for. His hands shiver at the notion, his body tensing, but he shakes it off as he lowers his head and stalks off to the office. 

It does nothing to shake his mind from their past. It does nothing to fix the state of drifting he’s in. All it does is make him work, mind empty, body moving slower than usual. 

He goes to bed hungry for something he won’t have ever again. He goes to bed sick to his stomach at the thought. 

-•-

_His hands are scarred with burns, his eyes flickering all over the show. He can’t help the breath escaping him in ragged, uneven breaths as his shoulders tug inwards. There’s an intense, sharp pain from his eye-he can’t see out of it- as he curls inward, watching the white-coated men around him._

_They watch him like he’s an animal. They poke and prod at him, asking questions he doesn’t seem to be able to answer, and when he can they give him looks that make him feel like he could throw up. But they’re warmer than before, and the darkness is more comforting, and Doc doesn’t feel like he’s going to cry at any moment._

_He’s been going so long without parts of him that the memories of them being there are fading. He can’t remember what his vision looked like in the other eye, he’s lost those moments where he goes to reach something with his lost limb. It feels nothing but natural to be so broken._

_It’s one of those moments where he wakes up, and the halls are lit only by a lantern. One of the other kids are awake, sitting in the room across the hall from him, staring blankly. Doc sits up and stares right back._

_And maybe it’s the lights. Maybe it’s the way his hands tremble after Doc stares at him. Maybe it’s the stress on the weight of both their shoulders, but it’s frightening how Doc feels so strong just because he lasts longer without blinking than some kid._

_But the kids eyes are familiar._

_The kids eyes are coloured differently. One eye is black, the other is a deep red, and the locks that fall in front of the kids face is a stark off-white at darkest. Maybe it’s the lighting, but this kid seems the same as him._

_Until he watches a man in a white coat step in front of the two of them, turning his gaze towards Doc with a pointed stare. Something garbled, with too soft of a voice to be recognisable, comes out of the man’s mouth. Doc doesn’t understand what he’s saying at all, it’s not a language he speaks._

_He tries to explain this. His voice falters._

_The man steps forward, into his room. Doc watches him with a single wide eye. The man takes something from his pocket, looking at Doc, voice raised as Doc whispers out that he can’t understand any of what is happening._

_There is a thud when the man drives a knife into Doc’s thigh. The next thud is the man hitting the floor, knife still in Doc’s thigh._

Doc jerks up, breath uneven, his only arm fleeing towards where that knife had been only seconds ago. There’s nothing there but the knot of scarred skin. 

Peeling away his bed covers, he stands, and when he gets to his kitchen he notices his neighbour’s glaring light. Grumbling, he flips Bdubs off when the man looks towards him, and grabs a cup of coffee with the intent of seeing the sun rise despite it being well into midnight. Bdubs tells him to F off through the window. 

And Doc can’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo y’all sorry this was short I promise there’ll be more in he next chapter I just really needed to get down how I felt lol 
> 
> Also yes the argument above is a Pinterest prompt I didn’t know how to start this out 
> 
> Please lemme know if you wanna see more of this cause I’m not sure ?? Anyway I wanna figure out how the others fit into this town thing
> 
> Remember to love each other <3


	2. Eight Hours.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc has eight hours until he’s called into the field. Doc has eight hours to calm the churning in his stomach. Doc has eight hours to do... nothing. Eight hours until he’s doing the things he’s been doing his whole life. 
> 
> But why does he feel so unsure?

_Eight hours._

Eight hours until he gets to know who the damned idiots that got themselves tangled up with something bigger than themselves are. Eight hours until he’s on the field and not at home doing nothing. But at least it’s eight hours with no neighbour, no one, and no noise. 

Eight hours to prepare for whoever he has to go out and massacre. The thought of it makes him want to shiver, but all that comes out of him is another sip of his beer. 

It’s going to be a long eight hours here on his own. 

_Seven hours._

Seven hours to go and he’s already got on his work clothes, trying to distance himself from who he sees in the mirror. He doesn’t even know why he’s standing in front of it in the first place. He’d come to do something, but nothing seems important right now. 

He turns on the tap, watching it run. He puts his hand under it, palm up, and watches it trickle from his fingertips like-

He turns the tap off. 

_Six hours._

He’s fighting the urge to strangle Bdubs. They’ve got a sticky-note prank-thing going on right now, and Bdubs has retaliated to his (brilliant) move by covering the entire front porch in pink notes before slipping the final one under Doc’s front door. And Doc has to spend the next hour picking them off before he’s picked up by people who cannot see this kind of thing. 

And he doesn’t particularly want to spend the next hour doing this. He doesn’t want to get down on his knees and clean this. He doesn’t want to retaliate at all. 

His fingers are numb as the first one whips off, a satisfying spot of porch left behind. Doc’s nose is free from the smell of antiseptic- which is good, because he would have hated the smell of anything right now- but it does nothing to spare the pain of his fingers as he works away at the coverage. 

_Five hours._

Thunder, the slaps of rain on the window. Doc’s lucky it happened just as he was finishing with his cleaning of the porch issue. He’s still damp with the beginnings of this storm, but it gives him an excuse to set up his work arm and boot up whatever he needs to on his eye. 

That takes him five minutes. What takes him only seconds is to flip Bdubs off as the man fumbles with his key in the rain. He almost feels bad about it. 

Until Bdubs quite loudly tells him to stick his ego where the sun don’t shine, and then Doc doesn’t feel bad at all. No, he feels nothing. Nothing at all. 

Which he hates almost twice as much as he hates Bdubs. 

_Four hours._

The rain’s pouring has subsided to gentle pitter-patter on the windowsill. Doc’s sitting with his head in his hands, arms braces on the kitchen counter, eyes watching his empty coffee mug for something. 

There is no churning within him. No fury boiling at the idea he might need to eliminate someone. Not even a single drop of tiredness within him- it’s a blank, clean slate. 

His hand brushes over the place where his eye meets his skin, wincing at the feeling of it’s uneven transition. It’s nothing but a reminder, but he doesn’t feel nostalgic. His fingertips are leaking out emotion- but he doesn’t have any emotion within him, so there nothing to bleed out. 

_Three hours._

Was it his fault?

_Two hours._

Bdubs has friends around. Doc’s house is devoid of lighting, his curtains are drawn, his eye is the only thing scanning the room. The black around him is almost as quiet as his mind, but the blaring of Bdub’s exaggerated laughter only makes Doc curl in on himself even more. 

His skin feels monstrous. His hands feel powerful. He feels crazy. 

Flexing his fingers, he runs his hands over his head and feels the haircut he has only because it’s mandatory. He wonders what idiots he’ll be risking his life for today. He wonders if he should even go willingly. 

He doesn’t come to a conclusion. 

_One hour._ me

Bdubs has Xisuma and Keralis- one of Doc’s previous Area 77 visitors- over. He’s still as bossy as ever. They’re planning a business, or maybe Bdubs has been accepted into a business? 

Either way, it’s not like Doc cares. 

It’s not like he has the capacity to care.

But the only other thing to focus on is how he’s washed his hands three times now and he still feels dirty. How his skin ripples at the thoughts of going back there, of working for them, of something he doesn’t want. 

Electric sparks ghost over his skin. His muscles flex to remind him he’s not back there, but all he can think about is the treading of feet in mud, the noise, his weight being crushed under a tree as three figures fade in and out of consciousness- 

_Doc wakes up without them. He wakes up covered in mud and sitting in front of someone. They mutter something- “who did you say this was?”- and kick him in the stomach._

_“His code is #77, ma’am,” Someone to the right of him says. “Shall we transfer him to Code Red?”_

_“Oh, don’t be so formal,” The woman snarks back at whoever is next to him. “Get him into the APP unit where he belongs. Make sure they put him to use, or I will.”_

_He blinks._ He breathes. 

There is not a single thing that can phase him now. Even if Bdubs is chatting away about how he appreciates the two guys with him.

Even if Keralis asks him something about his past, and Bdubs dismisses him and Doc as ‘Just people who knew each other’. Even if that makes Doc ache, he is not phased.

Being phased would mean he’s still the man who was crushed by a tree, covered in dirt, and betrayed by his ‘friends’. 

He rips a pillow in half. 

_His alarm goes off. It’s time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight so I tried here but I really couldn’t think of anything other than petty venting-to-make-myself-feel-better things to continue with so I came up with this as a bit of a prologue to me explaining what doc does/Area 77 transitioning into GOAT. But dw, Bdubs and him argue again soon, this time with less door closing and Keralis 
> 
> Kinda wanna do a Mumbo thing just for the sake of expanding on the idea I have for this silly little town/also so I can expand on the whole Civil War idea :>
> 
> One again don’t forget to love yourselves and each other <3


	3. Grind, Optimise, Automate, and Thrive.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc sits in a black car, and is offered a job position. All he wanted to do was kill a man and move on, dammit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: mentions of death, mentions of gore, mentions of blood, mentions of bullets, mentions of ‘removing people’, arguing. 
> 
> Please take care of yourself while proceeding <3

He’s been called to office, called to kill someone- called to kill someone so _young_ at exactly 12am. And at 12:11, he walks out, hands balled in fists and body covered in blood.

There’s blood on his hands because of this. There’s blood on his coat, because of _this._ There’s blood on every. Damn. Surface.

Doc rolls his shoulder to keep composed, stepping out of the alley’s heavy atmosphere and into the fresh evening air with little more than a frown on his face. There’s a black car- _oh wow, how original_ , he thinks- waiting a little way down the road for him.

Opening the door, Doc shoves his way in and sits down with a grunt. A woman sits in the chair to the left of him, glasses on to hide her identity- but Doc knows who it is.

He bows his head, focusing on the cool feeling of his robotic arm resting against the tear in his jeans. “Cleo,” He nods, acknowledging her presence.

A beat of silence fills the air between them, the car’s rumble to life being the only background noise as their chauffeur pulls out of their parking spot and begins down the wet, dark street and towards the highway.

“Doc, I admire your skills,” Cleo begins, removing her blacked out glasses as she cleans the lenses. “It seems I’m not the only one. Recently, an accident has taken down the head of a very valuable operation.”

“And it seems as if you’re the perfect candidate for its heir,” Cleo places the glasses back on her face, turning towards him. “Tell me, have you heard of the G.O.A.T organisation?”

“No,” He says, eyes forward- but his mind, his mind is back there with the screaming voices and the terror. His mind is back there were he left his mask next to a group of dead bodies, his mind is stuck on the image of blood pouring from a bullet wound.

And he’s almost sickened by the fact that he can afford to things so lazily, because he won’t face the repercussions. They’re the ‘good guys’.

“It stands for Grind, Optimize, Automate, and Thrive,” Cleo continues. “The organisation’s job is to form valuable relations with significant people, and get more of the dirty stuff done. They want you to lead it- think you’re up for it?”

Doc turns towards the window, which is covered in dried droplets and he sees the rush of cars around them. Imagining the whip of the air, he lets out a sigh. “What are the strings attached?” He asks.

“Not much,” Cleo leans back in her seat, expression neutral. “Less work hours, optional ones, even. That’s to be arranged if you should take the job. The pay’s higher, too.”

Doc hums. High pay is certainly appealing. “Sure, I’ll take it,” He says, because he knows Cleo isn’t the type of girl to take no as an answer. “Will this be on top of Area 77?”

“No, you’ll be transferred,” Cleo says. “The job isn’t far. And you can definitely do it remotely- you’ll just be leading the whole thing.”

Doc rests his head against the seat. “You don’t have to sell it to me, I’ve already agreed,” He says.

“Good,” She gives a smile that says absolutely nothing to Doc’s lack of enthusiasm here. All he wanted to was get the job over with and sleep- now he’s starting a completely new position. “I’ll contact you with the details of your first assignment and anything else you need bright and early tomorrow.”

“Oh, joy.”

-

It’s not raining when he gets back at 1 in the morning, but it damn well should be. Doc has spent the past half an hour trying not to throw up at the smell of drying blood on him, and is almost exhausted at the idea of needing to wash these clothes before he can go to bed.

Even if it’s just for five seconds, he’d flipping love some time alone. But he’s hasn’t gotten anywhere being crammed into some shady-as black van and offered a completely new job position. And now that he’s standing on his porch, he’s still not getting anywhere with how intently Bdubs is watching him.

“What?” He spits out, as he stands at his door and can’t bare putting the key into the lock and pretending he isn’t covered in another persons blood. “ _What_ are you looking at?”

“Im not looking at anything,” Bdubs shrugs. “Just watching you fail to open a door.”

The smirk on Bdubs’ face is too similar to the one on the body below him as he raised a gun to its head. Doc opens his mouth to speak, but finds all his words lost in the haze of memory, so he turns back to the door.

He can’t ignore it when Bdubs is watching him. He can’t ignore the way it feels to be scrutinised- and the weirdest, most disgusting thing about the whole situation is he _likes_ the Intrigue. He _likes_ that Bdubs has noticed Doc moved on without him. It’s like a massive middle finger in Bdub’s betraying little stink face.

“Is that blood?” He asks, snapping Doc out of his thoughts.

“So what if it is?” Doc responds, steadying his hand even if it doesn’t need it. He puts the key in the lock, but pauses before turning it. “Why do you care if I’m covered in blood?”

“Because it’s illegal, Doc, unless the bloods your own,” Bdubs rolls his eyes. “Na duh, I’m making small talk idiot. Believe it or not people are going to get suspicious if we hate each other out of nowhere.”

“Believe it or not, I don’t want to be your friend,” Doc spits back. “Just Tell them You’re scared of me- or better, why don’t you tell them you can’t think of me as valuable? Why don’t you tell them you think of me as expendable?”

Bdubs furrows his brow. “If you’re that upset over being left behind, Doc,” Bdubs responds. “I’ll have you know I was trying to do what was best for the group. We had to leave you behind! You were covered by a _tree_ and there were people coming-“

“You’ll find that I was the one those people found,” Doc spits back.

Even grass is louder than the air that suddenly hangs between them. The smell of dried blood in Doc’s nostrils no longer bothers him, and he figures he’ll just throw these clothes out and buy something new when the time comes. He twists the door handle open and-

“I regret it, you know,” Bdubs’ voice sounds as if it weren’t meant for him. “I regret leaving you behind. But I didn’t know what to do, I was young and- and you _saw_ what they did to us, Doc. I just wanted to get out and in the process, I hurt you.”

Doc takes a breath to steady himself, and another to steady his words. “If I knew,” He begins. “If Someone has told me the plan…”

“You know I would have done things differently, right?” Doc finishes, head up, eyes away from the man he’s confessing to. It feels like there is freedom where there was baggage on his shoulders, but his throat is still tight as he waits for a response.

It’s too long before Bdubs sucks in a shaky breath. And when his neighbour goes to reply, he’s already inside ripping off his clothing the way he wishes he could rip off his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey yo y’all 
> 
> Sorry this is short I’m kinda working on an original book alongside this so it’s a matter of juggling this, my mental health, school, my free time and the original book. But it’s okay because I’m enjoying all of that ! If it gets too much tho you’ll definitely see me cut one of those off and it’s likely to be my free time lmao 
> 
> Yeah I rewrote this, I wasn’t really happy with the last one because it felt like it rushes to the arguing part and didn’t really further the plot for me
> 
> If there really is a plot, so far it’s just been Doc arguing with Bdubs and him being hired to kill someone 
> 
> More to come on the whole Doc-and-The-NHO front :>
> 
> Remember to love yourselves and each other <3


	4. Friendly faces.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Doc recalls a certain white room, and coincidentally, the people he used to share that room with show up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not fluent in german, I’m learning it at school (required, my school is founded in Germany but now world wide so it’s kind of in honour of that) so if I got anything wrong and you know I did, please let me know !! It’s a great opportunity to help me actually pass the class !!

_“Bewegung, 77.” The man spits at him._

_He shuffles slightly, legs aching with the force of his previous explosion. He pushes onwards, into the void-White room, and stands in line with three other members he’s never seen before. He lines his feet with the boy next to him- who looks oddly familiar- and stares ahead at the three scientists._

_Standing their, clipboards in hand, white coats tightly fixed closed as if they were observing animals. Their hands are covered by gloves, eyes covered by plastic glasses, pants tucked into shoes. It makes Doc sick to see them treat everyone here as if they were savage, uncontrollable animals._

_The kid next to him seems just as unimpressed, from the looks of it. Doc can’t really read between the lines of their face, his vision still swimming, as he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out. The air sits, palpable, between the scientists and them._

_A beep sounds. “You are a faction, a team,” A lovely, commercial women’s voice comes from the speaker. “You fight together, you train together, you stay together. Welcome to the APP’s ‘Navigate, Harm, and Override’ program.”_

_The voice dies down with a beep- Doc notices the kid next to him blink, as if refraining from a terrible act. Doc finds himself wishing that the kid had done whatever it was they thought of doing._

_„77, du solltest es gut machen. Wir haben gute Dinge über dich gehört,“ His handler stepped forward, nodding to him. He gave a curt nod back. „Bleib hier.”_

_„Ja,” He repsonds._

_As the scientist steps away from him and back towards the exit, leaving him in a room full of strangers. The one on the end speaks a weird noise, before the rest of the scientists leave as well._

_Doc remains where he is, as the other three experiments seem to disperse. “So, what’s your name?” One, with a bright red headband shadowed by the few black locks that fall over it, asks. “Course I know the other two, but you’re new. Ey?”_

_Doc tilts his head. The noises from the man’s mouth are weird, indicating another language. He attempts a friendly smile, and responds: „Ich heiße 77. Und du?“_

_The man only blinks._

_-_

Doc likes to envision himself in that room when he’s filling out endless amounts of paperwork. Sure, the endless white walls are difficult to replicate and more often than not make him feel like a subject instead of a person, but so long as he isn’t really in the room, the thought helps him focus. 

He’s long since stopped pretending that he’s working on things for the NHO- Navigate, Harm, and Overtake- because there’s no need for it. Reliving what was forcibly taken from him will only hurt more. Reliving it and knowing he could have it back, if he just stopped being so stubborn? Worse.

But he learnt something when he lost his arm, in the mud. He learnt that if given the choice, everyone will run. And if your left behind? 

Then you are weak. 

Sighing, he slams his pen down on the final document and runs his hand over his face, feeling the warmth ebbing off of his skin. He begins to focus on it, the feeling of his hand against his face, nothing like the cold steel of his prosthetic arm. 

For a moment he imagines he has the prosthetic on, and begins to reach for the pen- but he doesn’t. His shirt is bundled into a knot against the join where his arm meets his torso. He removes his hand from his face, sighing, and begins to pick up the pen. 

A final signature, and he’s done. His hand won’t stop shaking. He won’t stop shaking. Why won’t he stop shaking? That’s such a weak thing to do. He hates it. 

Gripping the base of the pen tightly, he pushes his fist against the table and lets out a shaky, angry breath. There is no need to get angry, no need to fight it, if he takes a few breaths it will all calm down and he can work efficiently. 

His mind is cast back to the white room. He lays it out in his mind, thinking of where the exit would be- to his left, a few feet away- and where the surveillance cameras would be- one in each corner, except for the one near the door, and the one in the viewing room hidden behind their mirror, which would be in the far right corner angled just far enough for Doc to see himself work. 

Everything feels a little clearer now. 

He takes one deep, slow breath, and releases his grip on the pen. Slowly, he presses the pen to the paper, and when he begins to shake, he takes a moment to breathe there. He is not changing anything. He is providing a house for himself, so he doesn’t have to go right back to the white room that still smells like them even if they’ve been gone for years. 

He’s going to be fine. So, moving the pen only slightly, he begins to draw out his signature. 

Until a knock on his door- a loud one, too- has him desperately fumbling for the pen he’s managing to accidentally let slip out of his hand. Sighing, he slowly stands, and drops the pen onto the document he was signing.

He trudges over to the door in a way that looks tired but is more likely to be annoyed, and whips open the door. “Hallo-“ He begins, cutting himself off with a blink. He notes three things about the people at his doorstep. 

Number one; They’re all standing there like nothing ever happened. Number two, all of them except his neighbour has a splash of blood on them. And number three; 

They’re thoroughly surprised when he slams the door shut without another word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all 
> 
> Sorry I haven’t posted lately, I reworked the outline for this and my quarantine has unfortunately ended so I am back to school :( I’m going to keep trying to work on things, but everything is crazy and I’m also trying to work on my artwork so that the book I’m writing has more of a Moominvalley feel to it 
> 
> Also I run a class meme page but no one knows who I am (I feel like an undercover boss tbh) so that’s bringing me some stress, I would cut it off but I’m channeling my inner gremlin there so it’s a coping mechanism I guess 
> 
> Also it’s kinda fun being liked by people ?? My anxiety makes it difficult to connect with people when I have faces to put to names, so having a mask in front of me is like a safety guard. Of course I’m not doing anything illegal, I’m just posting memes, so it should matter as much, but it does 
> 
> I guess what I’m trying to say is that as much as I love writing, until I get school balanced with my passions, there’s going to be gaps between posts guys 
> 
> Also my chicken might need to be put down so I tried to take time with her before she leaves but every time I see her I can’t stop crying, I didn’t even spend that much time with her but I held her when she was small and now she might not even get to live a full life,,,,,, 
> 
> Sorry for the sadness y’all haha 
> 
> Remember to love each other and yourself <3


	5. Return to the white room.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc opens the physical door, and then peeks out the mental one, and then shuts both so he can go back to work.

  
In truth, Doc figures, he never really got over them. He finds himself still wanting to open the door behind him, despite his knowledge that he should be better than this. They left him. 

As the banging on the door gets as loud as Bdub’s yelling, Doc almost breaks his pen signing the contract for him to work for G.O.A.T. _God_ , he thinks. _Get me out of here._

It takes another five minutes before he whips open his front door with a snarl. “ _What_ ,” he spits. “Do you want?” 

“Well, that’s no way to greet an old friend, Doc,” Bdubs chides. “The gang’s back together! And guess what? They’re staying at _your_ house.” 

Doc fumbles as Bdubs pulls Etho and Beef into the room with him, all but Bdubs wearing the same confused face. “I- excuse me? You are not staying here.” 

“They are! Isn’t that great?” Bdubs chuckles. “You wanted the band back together, you got it. We’re all going to continue like nothing ever changed. Okay?”

“No, not okay,” Doc says. “I didn’t ask you to get them back together, I asked you not to leave me in the mud so you could all run free from whatever monstrosity the- the experiments were.”

“Apparently, you can’t understand that, either,” Doc continues. “I don’t want you all living in my house. You have your own house. Go live there.”

“Me and Etho are here too, guys,” Beef chimes in. “And we kinda don’t have a house.” 

Doc turns, directing his glare on them, and being met with two well-intentioned faces. The anger leaves him slowly, until all he has is an exhale. “You two can stay.” Doc points his his thumb towards Bdubs; “ _He_ cannot.” 

“How rude, I’m just trying to do something nice,” Bdubs says. “I missed this too, you know.”

“Yeah, well,” Doc shrugs. “I missed this for _eight years and fourteen days_ , so what?” 

“You counted?” Bdubs replies, and even if he meant it meaningfully, Doc sees nothing but a betrayal in the actions. 

“You didn’t? Shows how much you care,” he responds. “Now get out, before I make you.”

Bdubs leaves with a grumble, and Doc almost makes a comment about it. But that would be too loving, too accepting of what has happened. When the door shuts, Doc turns to the others in the room. 

“Do you need a change of clothes?” he asks the remaining men, Etho and Beef. Both look weary, unsure of Doc’s behaviour. “Do you?”

A slow nod comes from Beef. “Doc, we didn’t mean to leave you behind. It was stay or go, and we- Etho and I- didn’t want to leave, but we had to.” 

“That’s in the past,” Doc responds, clenching and unclenching his fist. “Stay here, have a shower, do whatever. I don’t care. I’m going to get you spare clothes.” 

“Do you know what size-“

“I don’t. But APP will.” He shuts the door as he steps outside. 

-

Half an hour later he has files on all three men, a new project, a fulfilled promotion, and two bags of clothing. Pulling into the driveway, Doc groans internally as Bdubs glares him down from his place on the lawn. 

“Are you some kind of child?” Doc snaps, shutting the car door. “If you want to see them, they can stay with you. I don’t want them.”

“You do, don’t lie,” Bdubs pouts. “We’re your friends, Doc. Admit it, you like having them back.”

The statement makes his stomach swim, head pounding with thoughts too loud to speak, so he climbs the stairs to his porch. Bdub’s voice drowns to background noise, a loud static filling in his ears as he thinks about the white room, the empty walls, the quiet that had followed his friend’s betrayal. 

The door clicks open, but he doesn’t hear the click. He knows it clicks. It always does. His mouth clamped shut, stuffed with cotton, as he dumps the clothes down in front of Beef and Etho, who’s smiles drop. 

His hands shake with memories he can’t erase, a distant moment where he was happier. And if he had the energy, he might hate the fact he still thinks of that white room. 

Etho and Beef slowly start to pick up the clothes from their discarded place, and Doc finds his feet carrying him to his dining room table. He takes a seat, staring at the open folders in front of him, but his hands shake too much for him to read what each page says. 

It’s quiet. The white-room kind of quiet. 

Etho coughs, jerking his head towards beef, mouthing ‘talk to him’. Beef points a finger to himself, and then to Etho, and tilts his head in question. A silent conversation, held in the same beat, conveying everything a few minutes would have. Etho places down the shirt he had been looking at, leading both Beef and himself towards Doc. 

For just a moment, they stand there, like they had back then. Etho takes a step first, hand on the chair, gauging Doc’s reaction. When nothing comes, he sits. A conversation with no words passes between him and Beef, as the other man comes to sit opposite Etho, still next to Doc. 

Doc’s head, held in his hands, looks up to find them sitting there next to him. He blinks back his confusion, as Etho pats his back and stands again. Both Doc and Beef show confusion now, glancing to where Etho is- now in the kitchen- and watching as he makes them all hot chocolate. 

Ten minutes later, Doc is steady enough to pick up the first page of his task file. Etho and Beef sit there, silent, passing a spare piece of paper back and forth, the paper holding a heated game of Tic Tac Toe. 

It’s quiet, but not the white-room kind of quiet.

Doc almost feels greatful for it.

-

The afternoon is spent in silence. 

After Doc finishes reading, he sits in silence watching the two of them play their back-and-forth game of Tic Tac Toe. When they’re done, and the silence- blinding, defeaning, complete _silence_ sets in, Doc stands to make them all food. 

Beef and Etho get up to help. Beef takes over the cutting ( _frustrating_ , doc thinks, why is cutting things so _frustrating_ -) and Etho starts to boil water. With the motion of his hand, an offer is extended; ‘ _Doc, go work, don’t worry about this_.’ 

Doc turns back to his work. And there is no silence anymore, filled with the clinking of kitchenware and the sound of pencil against paper. It’s like a dance, a familiar one. 

-

_Doc can’t breathe. There’s a crushing weight pinned against his chest, pushing him further into the muck that stains his torn uniform. His voice is hoarse, he gasps for air as he desperately blurts out a cry for help._

_It hardly reaches their ears. They keep going, Their feet making splashes in the puddles of mud. The scent of wet leaves and muddy grass is all Doc can smell as his breathing gets quicker, uneven and desperate._

_He’s so. Damn. Desperate._

_They don’t turn around, Doc watches Bdubs continue with determined steps. And he gasps one final time for air, the hand that isn’t stuck clawing the mud in an attempt to be free._

_Bdubs turns his head, for a second, and sees Doc. He whips around then, followed by Etho and Beef, but Doc can’t hear that they say. He only knows that it’s Bdubs’ hands that dragged Beef and Etho away. It’s Bdubs’ face he sees before he stops trying to escape._

_And they all look so. damn. desperate._

_He wakes up in a white bed. He pulls the covers away, tracing the scars on his chest with his real hand. The places his fingers dance over feel empty, new and fresh yet so old that tracing them is just rhythm._

_The room is empty aside from him._

_And now he knows they didn’t come back for him._

-

He wakes up gasping for air, hands flying to his throat, to his chest, then the joint where the robotics meet his skin, no thought to their actions. His lungs heave, in and out, chest going up and down, trying desperately to suck in air that he can’t feel entering his body. 

While for the first time in a while, he feels feed and full, his stomach aches like there’s nothing inside it. His hands- his normal hand shakes with every small movement, while his other moves in slow, calculated clenching movements to try and calm him down. It doesn’t. 

Nothing about that arm could ever calm him down. 

He pulls himself out of bed that night and remembers that he’s housing people he loved and lost. He remembers, as he sees early morning light touch their faces, that Etho and Beef might be here now, but they weren’t then. Some deep, twisted part of him wants to show them what they missed. 

But he won’t. He doesn’t know why. 

Or, rather, he does know. He just won’t admit it.   
That’s the unhelpful advice staring at his reflection provides him. 

Compared to that, the advice he gets from Joe for his position is a little easier to decipher- only marginally easier to understand, but it’s more helpful than not. Of course, Doc files it away after reading the second paragraph, the words flying over his head. 

And despite that, it feels a little better to be surrounded by white walls. A little lonelier, but that’s what he deserves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y’all 
> 
> Happy pride month 
> 
> My dog took all the self care so I decided to start overworking myself (according to my therapist) so I guess that’s a thing 
> 
> Also I’ve been reading this fic called “The Parting Glass” which i definitely recommend reading because it’s really good ??? And so I’ve been reading that instead of writing which is alright 
> 
> Anyway remember to love yourselves and each other <3


	6. Avoiding.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc is avoiding the NHO- and doing a terrible job of keeping himself in shape while he does. Luckily, though, the NHO (and Ren) are sick of waiting for him to come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Bdubs angy

Doc sits at his desk, shoulder heavy and eyes aching. His dim lamp light has replaced the blaring white lights of the room, illuminating the paper in front of him. 

The lights snap up, shaking Doc out of his state, startling the man back against his chair. “Oh! Sorry, sir,” A woman in a white lab coat steps into the room, clutching a clipboard to her chest. “I didn’t think the lights would be that bright.”

“It’s fine.” Doc sits up straighter, frowning. “What do you need?” 

“Well, uh,” she hurries forward. “I was hoping to get your permission for a project. It’s a little advanced, further than what we’ve been doing but-“ 

“Which project?” Doc asks, fiddling with his pen, twirling it between his fingers. 

“Well, uh,” The Scientist fiddles with some papers, placing a form down on Doc’s desk. “There’s the form for you to sign- the project is reminiscent of some of the APP’s later works, before it… shut down, but it’s sure to work this time. You see, I think if we can somehow tap into the same DNA that allows humans to mutate with powers, then we can combine it with the DNA of a watcher to create some form of being that allows us to move between worlds-“

The women continues talking, words brushing over Doc’s head as he blinks slowly. The world is so slow, and his arms are heavy as he lifts his pen to sign the paper, desperate to get this over with. “There you go, go finish your project or something.”

The scientist smiles. “Oh! Thank you!” Grabbing the paper, she hurries out of the room before Doc can say anything more. 

He groans, leaning back against his chair, mind fuzzy with his need for sleep. 

-

“It’s only been a day,” Beef reasons. “Doc wouldn’t overwork. He was the best of us at remembering to take time for himself, wasn’t he?”

“Right. I’m just paranoid,” Bdubs says, picking at the rips in his jeans. “And besides, who am I to care? He’s been nothing but harsh and unhelpful. Even when I’m nice!”

Etho flips the channel on the TV, setting the remote down as he mutes the program. “He didn’t come home last night, and knowing him, that’s not normal.” Etho stretches, giving a satisfying pop. 

“Maybe we should check up on him,” Bdubs says. “Just in case. Not that it matters much, but it’s worth it- right?”

“Let’s wait a little while longer.” Beef finishes.

-

“Three days!” Bdubs announces as he enters the room, throwing the front door open. “Three days and still nothing! I swear if he’s avoiding us I’m gonna-“

“If he’s avoiding us, is for a reason, isn’t it?” Etho says, slowly putting the book down. “We should talk about it, guys, we did-“

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing.” Bdubs throws himself down on the couch, groaning. “We did nothing wrong! Tried to save ourselves and look where that got us!”

Etho sighs. “Look, I’m calling Ren, if anyone knows what happened after we left it’ll be him.”

“The bloody idiot probably turned Doc against us, that’s what,” Bdubs grumbles. “Nice guy, terrible Alliance, bad motives.”

“Different groups, different lives, doesn’t make him a bad person,” Etho says. “Calm down. Beef’s on his way to pick Ren up, and it’s rude to say things like that to someone.”

“Alright Mom.”

-

“You…. Uh…” Ren shifts in his seat. “You really did a number on him- from what I can tell.”

“I mean, me and Iskall were confused when he was the only one they dragged back, but…” Ren coughs into his hand. “We were even more confused when they started taking things away from him. Replacing things.”

“Made it like a Workshop, I guess,” Ren says. “And then they shoved me in there with Doc for a bit, but he never really opened up. We laughed, we spoke, but at the end of the day they’d take him away for an hour and he’d come back quiet.”

Bdubs groans. “And now he’s avoiding us.”

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” Ren chuckles. “Avoid you, I mean. I tried to get him to talk about it, but he’d always get distant.”

“But I never tried to get him to avoid you,” Ren finishes, fiddling with his suspenders. “When we got out together, I told him I’d help him find you guys if he wanted. He… didn’t respond.” 

“And? Anything since?” Etho asks, hands in his lap.

“No.” Ren meets the NHO’s eye’s. “He’s gotten better. More friendly, less couped up, but he still doesn’t talk about you guys.”

“Alright, I’m sick of this, let’s just go straight to the man himself!” Bdubs stands, stomping his feet. “If Doc wants to avoid us, the he can keep running cause I’m gettin’ sick of waiting for him to come around and tell us why he thinks we were wrong!” 

“Wow Bdubs, sounds like you care or something,” Beef teases, standing as well. 

“I don’t! But I’m not gonna keep waiting on a sign from him,” Bdubs pouts. “Whatever! Let’s just go! Everyone in my car, I’m driving!”

The smaller man marches out of the house, whipping the front door open. “Oh no,” Beef says, rubbing his head. “If Bdub’s is driving, then someone better get a med kit.” 

“No way I’m letting him drive,” Etho comments. “Beef, grab the kit in case I fail, but I’m not letting him drive.” 

“Uh… should I walk home…?” 

“No, Ren, you’re coming with us.” Beef moves into the kitchen, reaching into a cabinet near the wall. “Get in the car, I’ll be there soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yo y’all 
> 
> Happy pride month 
> 
> Remember to take time for yourselves 
> 
> And if you got friends ? Make sure they’re good for you and you’re good for them
> 
> That’s my wisdom for this time
> 
> Remember to love each other and yourselves <3


End file.
